


Like Magic.

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: Merlin (TV), The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Implied Relationship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 09:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7429031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin isn't sure if he trusts the librarian's new apparentice, Marco. On the other hand, lady Celia might just be the loveliest woman he has ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Magic.

Merlin isn't sure when the new aid for the librarian arrived. Everyone seems to know when, and Gaius gives him that look that says that he wonders how just he manages to keep his head attached to his neck and Merlin isn't quite sure why it startles him so much.

The young man seems perfectly harmless: a pleasant enough face, green eyes, a soft smile and soft voice. Somehow, Merlin never hears when he approaches, which he is told is a good thing for someone who will spend most of his life in a library.

And still...

"What did you say your name was?"

"Marco. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The young man smiles, as if he was hiding something, mirth and laughter deep inside his eyes. Merlin doesn't *not* like him, he just doesn't know if he can trust him.

*

The first thing he thinks when he sees sir Hector Bowen and his daughter is that more than her father, sir Hector looks like her grandfather. Where he's already gray haired and bearded, his daughter is all lovely dark curly hair and dark eyes and when she catches Merlin staring, she gives him a smile that has him besotted to her instantly: Gwen laughs at him for an hour at how he sighs, to which Merlin reminds her that she has her own noble to moon over, let him have his never, _ever_ going to happen fantasies.

Uther welcomes them to Camelot after learning of their ordeal, orders for them to be taken to the best rooms, gestures Arthur in the sign that Merlin has been coming to understand means 'she is beautiful, desposable and rich so that makes her an excellent candidate for wife do not ruin this' and which, he knows, Arthur has been doing his very best to pretend he understands nothing of. He does offer his arm to lady Celia - not doing it would have been rude to her, after all - and Merlin is relieved when the lady smiles, but in something that has more of politeness than flirtiness. He feels Gwen relax when she notices the same thing. By the way Arthur's voice warms, he thinks the same.

 

"If there is anything I can do to make your stay more pleasant, milady, please, do say so."

"So," the lady says and Merlin can't hide a snort of laughter. She laughs as well and then he is sighing again. "I hope I wouldn't impose, sir, but I have heard wonders of your library."

Arthur smiles, his eyes wrinkling at the corners the way he does when it's a true smile. "That would hardly be an imposition. Merlin will guide you."

Sometimes he does really love being Arthur's servant. "That would be my honor."

Lady Celia gifts him with a beautiful, beautiful dazzling smile that has Merlin pretty much deciding that if she decides that she is too tired to walk, he would gladly carry her. Or she could walk on him so the floor wouldn't be too hard. He wouldn't mind it too much.

Which is, of course, while they are walking and he's telling her about Camelot, she puts her hand on his arm, Merlin almost swallows his tongue and, with one of those oh so pretty smiles, her eyes still warm, lady Celia asks.

"So, Emrys. How are we going to stop my father from killing the king?"

Which of course, Merlin thinks, figures.

**

Sir Hector is a wizard and has been, according to his daughter, for a long, long time and many, many years. But she, she says, is honestly only eighteen.

Although, she does have magic.

"Can you show me?" Merlin whispers. They are hidden at the library in a way that is highly innaproppiate for a servant to be with a noble lady, but he can't worry about that. He has to worry about the threat towards Uther, and he will, eventually, but now...

Celia's smile uncurls and her whole face brightens. She reaches forward and touches the wood of one of the stands-- vines start growing, blooming, as if the wood was remembering when it was a tree. Around them, inside the castle, tiny snow drops begin to fall. Merlin lets out a startled laugh, and then he covers his mouth, giddy with relief, with understanding, with desperately, desperately wanting her to not be evil.

But she is grinning as well, her eyes twinkling. "I have only ever done that in front of my father."

"And me, if you'd pardon me. I do hate to intrude."

They both gasp. From within the shadows, where no-one was there, he was sure suddenly the shadows dispel and Marco, the librarian, smiles at them both, his eyes bright.

"What. How..."

"I was waiting for the proper moment to reveal myself," he says towards Merlin. "I hoped to build some trust, before, since I was unsure why my father had sent me here."

"... you're a druid," and suddenly he's scared because one person besides himself with magic is something to be giddy about, but two people plus him plus the person wanting to kill the king might be a tad, just a tad too much.

"That I am," and he turns towards lady Celia, bowing. "Milady. I believe my father, Alexander, knows yours."

"... oh, yes. I understand now as well. This stupid game of theirs..."

"Yes, sorry, but I think that I got a bit lost there," Merlin says, because Celia is looking at Marco and Marco is looking at Celia and he could *swear* he is witness to the moment they fall in love.

Which is kind of terrible for him, mind, if only because the two of them are entirely too lovely and intriguing and they, of course, seem to have only eyes for each other.

**

In as few days as they can, while organizing, and the king wanting to play matchmaker and marry his son with the very beautiful, very charming, very magical - ha, get it it? - lady Celia, while learning about their powers and abilities, Marco tells Merlin about his father, one of the most powerful druids that have or will exist, and about a student of his that decided to become his rival, about the contests they have made, the lives they have sacrificed, and how, with Uther's ban on magic, it has been almost twenty years before they have caused another massacre. He shows the magical scar that binds him to Celia, a thin band of scar around his finger. Celia has one that mirrors that, although hers is usually hidden by rings.

During the nights when she can join them, clad in her nightgown and her hair flowing over her shoulders, Celia adds to the story and she and Marco test their magic to see how it is similar and how it differs, the three of them creating spells for the sheer joy of doing it, laughing late into the night, casting silencing spells so no one listens to them, Marco casting them deep within the shadows, Celia changing their clothes and their hair and Merlin taking a little bit of inspiration from Marco and a little bit from Celia and giving them fire that won't burn, water to make music with.

Merlin would regret how fast and sure Marco and Celia were deeply falling in love if they weren't just quite so beautiful while doing so.

It did make him feel lonely, but not envious.

**

"I doubt that father actually wants to murder the king," Celia says. "He is far too selfish to care about other people lives to be a martyr."

"Even if it affects him?"

"It only means that he has to be more clever, I'm afraid, and hide it," she answers. "Hide in plain sight. If it's not magic and it's just a trick... well. I thought it was out of character of him, something like this, it's simply too forward. He wants me to act. And he was probably aware that Marco was here as well."

Merlin sighs. "He sounds great. What about your father, Marco? Should we expect him to appear to stop sir Bowen from doing more harm to the magical community?"

"I very much doubt it," Marco gives a small shrug. "Alexander does care, but he is more of the idea of mostly neutrality. Do not intervene directly, just give gentle taps until the game tips on your favor."

"So I suppose the tip this time is you?" Merlin shakes his head. "This is giving me a headache. So, okay. You two know them better. What do we do so you both win this thing, there is no king, and we make a fool of your father?"

Celia and Marco share a look. Then, this gorgeous mischievous smile spreads over Celia's face, then Marco's, and Merlin does his best NOT to sigh again.

"We make it a show, of course."

**

It's not very hard, with three frankly amazing wizards working in tandem. Marco makes it so that the wine that is served that night is spiked-- or rather, gives the people the suggestion that it's spiked, makes them feel drowsy and content, even Uther is giggling. Celia, sitting next to Arthur, makes it so that the room seems to change: butterflies fly through the room, everyone's clothes changing colors and shape. Celia and Marco, without even touching, turn the shadows of the room into tumblerers and acrobats, fools and dancers that delight the drunk audience.

And he?

He defeats one of the greatest wizards that has ever been in magical combat, because yes, Hector Bowen is amazing in spite of his age, his reflexes fast and his summoning flawless.

But Merlin has spent the last week learning from his daughter and from his old teacher's student and he might have been good, better than great once, but he is better.

When he's done, Hector is forced to flee by turning himself into a shadow. Celia and Marco turn the hall into what it was and, before anyone can wake up, they carry on with the second part of the plan, just in case it worked.

**

"Are you certain of this, Merlin?"

It will be a scandal, of course: lady Celia running away with a mere servant when everyone knew that her father and the king had been bringing up the idea of her marrying the prince, such a shame to her poor, old father that the man had been forced to flee when he had found out.

Which isn't that much of a stretch, really. Marco had assured them that his father wasn't going to stop him one way or the other and, even if he did, he didn't mind.

"Yes, of course I'm certain," Merlin says. "Go, you don't have much time before the spell runs out."

Celia and Marco share one of those looks that he has gotten used to, where they could speak whole words without a sound. Then Celia turns towards him, holding his hands in hers.

"Come with us, Merlin," she says, her eyes bright. "There is yet so much we can learn from each other."

"Come," Marco says, his voice soft, his eyes warm. "We could do so much, the three of us together."

And Merlin's heart is breaking, so bad he wants to say yes because he knows, knows that they're not just offering companionship. They are asking him to be with the two of them.

"I would love to," he answers, because it's the truth, but Celia and Marco know him and know that there is a 'but' just there. "But I can't. I'm so sorry. Please, don't ask me again." because it's taking all his might, all his strength to say no. Because he can't leave Camelot. He can't leave Arthur.

They don't. Instead Celia wraps her arms tightly around his neck and hugs him and she smells of peppermint and sun dried stones and warmth and Marco's arm on his shoulder squeezes his and Merlin still has to tell himself that he can't leave. He can't. Not now. Maybe never. But definitely not now.

"We'll be back one day," Marco says instead, and Merlin doesn't trust his throat to say anything else, so he just nods, and motions them to get on the boat.

Within a few meters of the shore, the mist seems to swallow the boat and they, simply, go from his life as they had arrived, without warning.


End file.
